


Saving Mr. Wanks

by LovesBitca8



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (because it's me), Blow Jobs, Co-workers, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack then Serious then Crack, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mutual Pining, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesBitca8/pseuds/LovesBitca8
Summary: Rey blinked at him. “He… pleasures himself in the men’s room?” Poe nodded. “In one of the stalls?” Poe nodded. “He doesn’t lock the deadbolt?”“Nope,” he said, popping the consonant. “It’s common knowledge that the men’s room is… um, occupied from 2:00 til 2:15.”ORA crack!fic, treated seriously, and then treated like a crack!fic. In that order.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 100
Kudos: 1278





	Saving Mr. Wanks

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a real life situation that had far less sexy results. And like most things in my life, I say, "That's a Reylo AU."
> 
> Thanks to Angie for prompting.

Armitage Hux was going to drive her to drink.

She had fifteen reports on her desk for an incident last week of him clipping his toenails at the office.

The week before, he had poured out every dairy substance in the fridge and replaced it all with non-dairy products, claiming it was "the heroic thing to do."

Rey flipped through the formal complaints, blowing a breath out slowly. She would have to bring him in for a meeting. This would be his fourth formal meeting with H.R., but his father had been on the Board of Directors while he was alive, and the rest of the Board was hesitant to deal with him in any finality.

Which meant Rey just continued adding to his file.

Her computer dinged with a calendar entry reading, _GO TO LUNCH. DON'T WORK THROUGH LUNCH. EAT SOMETHING GREEN._

She frowned at the message Rose had created half a year ago, still embarrassed to say she didn't know enough about Outlook to know how to delete the daily 12:15 reminder. She'd been pretty consistent over the past six months with hitting the gym in her work building's basement for forty-five minutes before grabbing a salad (smothered in ranch dressing) at the cafe on the second floor. She worked from 7AM to 3PM, so sometimes she would wait to shower at home if it meant more time on the machines.

(Who was she kidding. She was a monster and didn't shower in the public showers as long as she could help it. Gwen Phasma walked around naked in the miniscule women's locker room without a care in the world, and Rey really hated standing next to the full-chested, statuesque blonde at the mirror.)

So sometimes (most of the time), a quick spritz with her perfume and a wash to her face was enough to get her through the last two hours of the day. And that's precisely what she did that day, after thirty minutes running on the treadmill and plotting Armitage Hux's demise.

Once she'd patted down her damp skin and gave herself a passing look in the reflection of the drinking fountain, Rey stopped in the cafe, picked up her salad, and jumped in the elevator to go change her clothes in her office and begin adding to Hux's file.

She entered the elevator, holding her carton of ranch with a side of lettuce and pressing herself close to the back wall when several more people joined.

Including him.

Rey looked down at her sneakers, cursing herself for her awful timing.

Ben Solo had a habit of joining her on the elevator ride up to Empire Logistics on the days when her sports bra was the definition of neon and she smelled like a shoe. He also had a habit of dressing in Armani and smelling like Armani and essentially being Armani while whispering in that velvety voice—

"Afternoon."

"Hi," she squeaked back.

Rey pressed her lips together and inched closer to the corner as the three others tried to squeeze in behind him. He was pushed to the other side of the elevator, but she could still smell him. And she prayed he couldn't smell her. Because… shoe.

Mr. Solo was the account manager for the northeast sector. His H.R. file (which it was her _job_ to look at, thank you very much) indicated that he was single and living in Tribeca with no emergency contact information despite Poe's numerous requests for him to complete his profile. He had several complaints filed against him several years ago for property destruction, but after mandatory Anger Management courses, he only had the occasional report from Armitage Hux regarding his habit of stealing all of Hux's Post-its.

Not only did he dress and smell expensive, he had the most luscious hair and strongest features and widest chest—

The elevator stopped at the floor for Empire Logistics, and Rey squeezed by several people until she could pop through the doors — unfortunately, at the same time as Mr. Solo. Their shoulders bumped, and she just managed to save her salad before it tumbled to splat on the floor.

"Apologies, Miss Johnson," his voice rumbled. He moved quickly into the office and toward his door in the back corner before Rey could commit to memory the sound of _Miss Johnson_ in his silky baritone.

~*~

Her meeting with Armitage Hux had gone as expected. He'd glared at her while she reminded him that personal boundaries needed to be maintained at the office. He'd signed the statement of his official warning, and had promptly left her office.

It was 2:30 when Poe dumped himself into her chair and said, "What did Hugs do now?"

"Clipping toenails."

"God, gross," Poe said, shivering all over. "I can't believe I had a drink with him."

Rey's hands paused over the 3-hole punch. "What?"

Poe waved his hand. "It was five years ago. We cleared it with — well, _me_. I wrote up a disclosure and had him sign it before we entered the bar."

"Is that all it was?" Rey asked, more out of fascinated disgust than following up on her job.

"Yeah, of course," Poe said, scratching his jaw and looking away from her. "I mean, he still lives with his mother, you know."

"I believe it." Rey turned to file her binder away on her shelf, wondering how _Poe_ knew Hux lived with his mother.

"Between Armitage and Mr. Wanks, I'm going to have to launch myself out the window this week."

Rey furrowed her brow, trying to remember who Wanks was.

"You mean Mr. Ward?"

She turned to face Poe, and his expression was hesitant, grimacing at her.

"No… it's a nickname for…" Poe's eyes suddenly brightened. "Oh wow. Actually, I could totally use you tomorrow. Maybe having a female representative in the room would make it… I dunno, easier?"

"What's the complaint?" Rey asked, taking her chair again.

"'Mr. Wanks,' as he is lovingly called, enters the men's room at 2PM sharp every day." Poe's cheeks turned pink as he continued, "He then proceeds to… wank… quite vigorously."

Rey blinked at him. "He… pleasures himself in the men's room?" Poe nodded. "In one of the stalls?" Poe nodded. "He doesn't lock the deadbolt?"

"Nope," he said, popping the consonant. "It's common knowledge that the men's room is… um, occupied from 2:00 til 2:15."

"'Occupied,'" Rey repeated. "How long has this been going on?"

"Months."

" _Months!_ " Rey gaped at him. "How has this been happening for _months_? Isn't he…? Haven't you…?"

"I dunno, Rey. I haven't received an official complaint until today, and I just"—Poe dragged a hand over his face—"really didn't want to deal with this." He laughed.

"And you… you truly think a female representative is what this case needs?" Rey started to laugh a bit hysterically. Men were just…the worst.

"I feel like it could add some weight to it, no? Please, will you join me at 2:00 tomorrow?"

"2:00? You are purposefully cutting into his 'alone time?’”

"Fuck," Poe said, dropping his head into his hands. "I didn't even think of that."

~*~

Rey had finished her run on the treadmill and moved onto the bicep curls. It was going to be a long afternoon with the 'Mr. Wanks' issue, so she pushed through the pleasant burning in her muscles and focused on her workout.

She saw Ben Solo while she was ordering at the cafe, eating what looked to be a full roast chicken. He was aggressively slashing a report with a red pen, clearly unable to stop working for lunch. Rey smiled to herself.

They really didn't have much interaction. Their conversations were limited to elevator rides and hallway passings, but he complimented her on her phone case one day. It was a picture of her corgi, Bebe. She'd gotten it specially made a few months back. From that short elevator ride, she'd learned that he had a dog growing up — a huge St. Bernard that this dad had named Chewie. His eyes had gotten a far away look and his lips had twitched into a smile.

And once, he'd opened the door for her on her way into the office. She'd been carrying a box of doughnuts for Poe's birthday — _gluten-free_ doughnuts that she had gone across town for and spent thirty dollars on — and he'd offered to carry the box upstairs for her. He'd guided her into the building, his hand soft on her lower back before it disappeared. She'd shivered regardless.

And another time, she'd walked by his office as he was screaming at his speakerphone. He was pacing, running his hands through his hair, and interrupting the person on the other end of the line. When she was done making copies outside his door, she glanced his way once more to find him watching her. She smiled and did a strange thing with her hand that could have been a wave if you squinted. He spun back to his phone and asked the person on the other end to repeat themselves. But Rey liked to remember the way his voice had raised, the way his hands tightened at his sides, the way he prowled around his desk. As the H.R. person who had to deal with any anger episodes, she really shouldn't have found any of it fascinating. But he was magnetic.

She wished she had more opportunities to see him at work, but she was also grateful that he wasn't on the other side of her desk for things like toenail clippings.

Rey ate her salad in her office while playing on her phone, counting down the minutes to 2PM. At 1:55, she met Poe in the conference room, spreading out her notebook and making small talk until 'Mr. Wanks' joined them.

She hadn't thought to ask Poe what the employee's real name was. She didn't want to know. The knock came precisely at 2PM, and after Poe said, "Come in," Rey watched Ben Solo poke his head in the room and say, "You wanted to see me?"

Rey stared at him, wondering what he could possibly want. They were waiting for a pervert, after all.

His eyes slid to her, and she watched them flicker over her face before coming back to Poe.

"Hi, Ben. Take a seat."

Rey's mind took a small vacation as Ben Solo slowly entered the room and took the chair across the table from her.

When she had visualized what the person who occupied the men's room for fifteen minutes with his inappropriate masturbation would look like, she'd thought of someone gross. Maybe someone older who was trying out little blue pills. Someone who lacked the social skills to understand that "alone time" was supposed to be for the privacy of one's own home.

Not someone who looked like…

Not someone who held doors for Rey or talked about their family dog with misty eyes or made her feel tingly every time they shared the same air in the elevator.

"Thanks for coming in, Ben."

Rey looked down at her notes. Thankfully, she was only here as an ornament. Poe was leading this.

"We've had a complaint filed against you. I need to make you aware of the complaint and discuss the matter with you to prevent future transgressions from happening. Then I'll need you to sign a statement acknowledging that you met with H.R."

Mr. Solo sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "I called him an incompetent dickwad. It's hardly the most awful things that's been said to Hux's face, so—"

"This… isn't about that."

Poe tapped his fingers against the table. Mr. Solo was silent. Rey started chewing on her thumbnail.

"This is about… the bathroom," Poe elaborated.

She couldn't look up at him. Wouldn't dare check his reaction.

She could hear Mr. Solo breathing, but he said nothing.

"We've had a report that in the afternoons, you are using the bathroom for personal time… of a sexual nature."

Rey bit the inside of her cheek. The secondhand embarrassment of this situation was going to make her combust.

"So H.R. would like to remind you that the restrooms on this floor are for every employee. And more than that, sexual conduct in the workplace — including the restrooms — is strictly against the ethics and behavior code of Empire Logistics."

Rey's neck and cheeks were hot, like she'd just run a mile in the sun. Her eyes were focused on the date she'd written at the top of her notes.

"Do you have any questions?"

There was a pause. And then a throat cleared, and a deep voice croaked, "No."

"And of course," Poe began slowly, "if there's any kind of medical condition related to this, you are under no obligation to declare—"

"No. No medical condition."

Poe slid a single piece of paper over to Mr. Solo. "I have here an acknowledgement that you were met with, and that—"

A pen clicked. The scratch of a ball point. And then the form was shoved across the table before Mr. Solo jumped up from his chair and flew through the door.

The inside of Rey's cheek was bleeding. Poe blew out a tight breath and leaned back in his chair.

"Strange guy."

Rey nodded to keep from speaking. Her mind was reeling. Aside from the very real problem in the form of her crush being a bit of a sexual miscreant, she was also now assaulted by the visual of Ben Solo leaning against a bathroom stall, rubbing one out during the work day. Like he couldn't wait until he got home. Or at least until 5PM when the office was empty.

And then she was conjuring images of Ben Solo in his desk chair at 5:01, unzipping his trousers and letting his head fall back against his lush desk chair—

Poe was standing, organizing his things. Rey jumped up and did the same, trying to calm her flushed cheeks. Poe was thanking her for joining him, apologizing for the awkwardness, and Rey brushed it off and excused herself.

She left the conference room in a daze, unsure of where she was going. The next thing she knew, she was in the ladies' restroom, locking herself in a stall, and dropping her face in her hands.

Mr. Solo _was_ an… exceedingly masculine man. Perhaps he was more… virile? Maybe he had different… needs?

She tried to remember how often her male friends and past boyfriends had said they'd masturbated per day. She'd remembered jokes and drunken stories about puberty, hearing Finn's friend Snap say unashamedly that he'd started taking six showers a day when he was thirteen.

Maybe Solo needed… more release.

With a jolt, she realized she was leaning against the wall of a bathroom stall just like Solo would be around this time if they hadn't interrupted him today.

She looked around, quite put off by the ambience. Maybe Solo watched porn on his phone. Or maybe he _did_ have a girlfriend, and he looked at her picture while he stroked himself.

Maybe he sexted.

She wondered what he would say. Was he more talkative when he was aroused? She imagined the small conversations they had in the elevator together — softly spoken with shy smiles. But then she remembered the way he spoke to his clients. The yelling, the authoritative demands, the immediacy. What version of him emerged in the bedroom, she wondered.

His soft voice, whispering _Good morning, Miss Johnson_ — only now it was against her ear, humming melodies about her breasts and her thighs. His warm hand on her back, now teasing her backside, slipping fingers through her folds.

Rey's eyes fluttered. She listened. There was no one in the restroom with her. She could feel herself warming, her core already turning molten.

Was it this easy? Just slip her fingers in her knickers and rub until the pressure broke?

The danger… the possibility of someone walking in…

Her nipples hardened.

She spread her thighs open, gathered her skirt up around her hips, and pressed her fingers against her center. Her knickers were drenched already.

She listened for footsteps. Rey bit her lip, and with a hazy memory of Solo's broad, firm shoulder bumping hers the day before, she pushed her fingers below the waistband. With the sound of _Apologies, Miss Johnson_ in her ear, she gathered the slick pooling out of her, and dragged her wet fingers up to her clit. With the image of his hand running through his hair as he paced and yelled and _dominated_ his opponents, she rubbed — no time to tease. She spread her folds open, and pressed a firm finger to her clit, and ground down.

Her jaw dropped open. Her head fell back. And she saw the edge of the cliff she was climbing. She could make it there. This could be so quick, so desperate. No one would have to know.

What would he think of her if he knew?

 _Miss Johnson_.

She whimpered.

_What do you think you're up to?_

Her hips jumped.

_Just a little more, sweetheart._

Her fingers swirled over her clit, applying pressure everywhere around it.

_You can do it. Just a little longer._

Her lips pressed together, her eyes squeezed tight.

_Do you need me to help you?_

She imagined his fingers, long and thick, sliding through her and teasing her entrance. Rey held her breath, knowing if she took air, she'd whine with the ever growing pleasure.

 _Rub your clit, Miss Johnson_.

She did. Her thighs started to shake.

_This is so wrong. In the workplace? You work in H.R., don't you? This is very, very wrong._

Her cunt clenched around his imaginary fingers. Her climax crested, and she gasped for air. The hand that twisted in the fabric of her skirt shot out, slapping the metal wall and bracing herself as she shivered and shook.

As she came down, she heard that deep voice echo against the silent tiles —

 _Very good, Miss Johnson. It's our little secret_.

~*~

Rey couldn't meet anyone's eye for the rest of the day. She feigned a headache and excused herself early to wallow in her shame. She felt disgusting. Depraved. But every time she thought about what she'd done to herself in the women's bathroom, she remembered that Mr. Solo had done the same. She couldn't stop the shiver of delight that ran down her spine.

On Monday morning, she felt like there was a sign taped to her forehead: I MASTURBATE AT WORK.

She suffered through her morning and went to the gym in the basement like usual. When she ordered her salad, she looked for Mr. Solo. She hadn't seen him at all that day, but she'd checked the attendance log — he was in.

When she stepped out of the lift onto her floor, Mr. Solo was there, waiting for an elevator.

She smiled brightly at him. "Hi. Going to lunch late?"

He swallowed and looked away from her. He nodded and got into the elevator she'd just vacated. As the doors closed on him, Rey realized that perhaps seeing the H.R. rep who'd admonished him for sexual misconduct would not necessarily bring a smile to his face.

As she picked at her salad back at her desk, she couldn't help but think of the pale tint to his skin, and the dark circles under his eyes.

~*~

He was avoiding her. After the third day in a row that she didn't find him in the cafe and only met his closed office door when she was at the copy machine, she could guess that was the case.

On Friday, she took a chance and went to the gym later than usual, trying to line up their schedules again. When finished with her workout, she left the gym and went to the cafe to buy her salad. She would wait for him to appear, and then take the lift back up with him. Like normal. To prove to him that things were normal.

He walked into the cafe finally, and she felt her stomach flip. It felt like _weeks_ since she'd seen him last. He walked up to the counter with his hands in his pockets, but then he looked up and caught sight of her.

She started to smile, lifting her hand to wave. Maybe she could offer him the chair across from her.

He turned on his heel and left. Rey blinked at his retreating back for a moment before scurrying to toss her trash and follow him out.

He was just stepping into the lift when she got to the hallway. She stuck her arm in the closing doors and forced her way in. His eyes remained on the button panel, never drifting to her.

"Not hungry after all?" she asked pleasantly.

He shook his head. "No."

She shifted on her feet, wishing she'd changed out of her gym clothes already. She was stuck in her bright pink sports bra today. The elevator was too silent with only the two of them.

"It doesn't have to feel awkward," she blurted out. "I deal with things like this all the time. Er, not things _exactly_ like this, but…"

His eyes drifted to her, and she watched them dip to the bright pink strap peeking through her tank. He looked away quickly.

"I just mean to say…" Yes, what _did_ she mean to say? "That we can go back to how things were…what we were before—"

"What were we before?" His eyes snapped to her. His voice was cold, almost cruel.

Rey felt her chest collapse. _Nothing_. They had been _nothing_ before.

The elevator dinged, and Mr. Solo raced out the doors, disappearing into his office. The walk back to her own desk was slow and heavy.

She spent the remaining hour of her day staring across the office at his door. She knew she was being irrational. It wasn't as if they were friends or even close to being _more_ than friends, but things were definitely never going to be normal again.

She was staring off, eyes glazing through her blinds when a movement across the office made her perk up. Mr. Solo was leaving his office. His tie was loose around his neck, and his Armani suit was looking less pristine than normal. He marched quickly across the floor, as if to say _do not get in my way_.

Rey leapt up, and ran after him. She would have this conversation. She would get nothing done until she made her feelings for him known.

She rounded the corner outside the main door, and just caught sight of his heel disappearing into the men's room. Bolting after him with the intention to corner him once he left, Rey stopped dead in her tracks.

She checked her watch. It was half an hour past his usual "time." Was he…?

Rey stood frozen. She counted sixty seconds in her head. And then another. There wasn't a sound beyond the door indicating hands being washed or the hand dryers running.

Was it possible he had his hand wrapped around his cock this very second? Stroking and teasing? Or maybe he wanted it over quick. Maybe he licked his palm and handled himself roughly.

She was standing in the deserted hallway, staring at the door to the men's room, probably looking as insane as she felt. But she had to know. She had to hear the sounds for herself, the wet slap of skin. The intake of breath just before he came.

She opened the door silently, and stepped into the restroom.

It was quiet at first. She let the door close slowly, without a click. Bending over to look under the stalls, she found a pair of Armani shoes at the very end of the row.

And then she heard it.

 _Vigorously_. That's what Poe had called it. The rubbing sound of his hand along his length. His heavy breathing. He _did_ like it rough.

She imagined him with his trousers around his knees, his briefs shoved down his thighs, and his hand pumping furiously, anxious for it to be over. Wanting it to be quick. Needing to get away with it.

 _What was she doing in here?_ Did she want to be standing here when he finished? Confronting him?

She should go—

" _Rey_."

She felt her mind extract itself from her body. The groan that followed the use of her name sent frissons of pleasure shooting through her veins. She heard his hand speed up.

Rey's jaw dropped open, and a pleasant warmth was mingling in her stomach. He was thinking of her. She'd thought maybe he had a girlfriend he imagined, or watched porn, or sexted someone else, but he didn't need any of that.

A sigh ricocheted across the bathroom tiles.

A terribly depraved idea crossed her mind. And with a smirk, Rey reached for the door handle and opened it loudly.

"Mr. Solo?" she called out, as if just now poking her head into the men's room. "Mr. Solo, the H.R. Department needs a word."

The stall at the end of the row was absolutely silent except for the sounds of his harsh breathing.

"Alright, one second," he croaked out.

She shut the door and clicked and clacked her heels as loudly as she could, crossing to the far stall. She smoothed her pencil skirt over her thighs and bit back a grin.

"Mr. Solo, I think you know you can't be doing what you're doing. Open the door."

Hearing him rein in his breathing from behind the metal door was delicious. And he'd been thinking of _her_.

"I just need a moment."

" _Now_ , Mr. Solo. Open the door." She reached forward and knocked harshly.

A moment's pause, and then the door unlatched, swinging open to reveal him standing there, red-faced and sweating. His pants were zipped up, but the buckle was undone. His erection hadn't completely faded and was pressing a bulge into his slacks.

He hung his head in shame, but before he could step out and face her, Rey stepped in. She crowded him into the stall, and closed the door behind her with a swift push to the lock. When she turned back to him, he eyed her like a wild animal.

"Mr. Solo," she said softly, "the H.R. Department has already written you up once about this. You wouldn't want to be written up a second time for the same incident."

His eyes were blown wide and black, gaze flickering over her, trying to figure out what her intentions were.

She stepped closer to him, her chest almost flush with his, her face tilted up. "So maybe we can do something different this time." She barely waited for him to register her words before dropping to her knees.

Later, she would regret kneeling on the men's room floor, but for now, she treasured the way Mr. Solo's throat choked on his own breath. And the way his eyes grew wide as saucers. And the way his lips parted when she reached for his hastily closed button.

"Rey, what are you doing?"

She smiled up at him and pulled his slacks open. "Helping you. The H.R. Department sincerely regrets taking away your afternoon wank, and wishes to make it up to you."

She pulled him out of his boxers, and stroked him slowly, taking a good look at him. He was larger than she'd ever seen in person, and her hand barely closed around him. Leaning forward, she drew her tongue up the underside of his cock, following the vein, and feeling him twitch and grow.

"Fuck."

Her eyes flicked up to him, and he was staring down at her in awe, hands braced on the walls on either side of him. She repeated her path, licking slowly and letting her tongue dance around the head, all while keeping her eyes on him.

"What do you think about when you wank in here?" she whispered against the tip of him, letting her wet lips slide over him.

His eyes were dark and black when he said, "This."

She smiled, and pressed her tongue to him again, swirling and teasing. "This?"

"Yes." The immediate response almost made her laugh. "This and other things."

She closed her lips around the tip softly, and then pulled away to whisper, "What other things?" His eyes fluttered closed as she slid him into her mouth, her lips in a tight "o" around his shaft. The words poured out of him.

"This, but under my desk. This, but in the elevator. This in my car." His voice was pitched low, rumbling up from his chest like a prayer. "Your tits bouncing as I fuck you. Your tits covered in my come. Your tits against my face—"

Rey was feeling lightheaded with the desire pooling in her stomach, but she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to hear everything. She bobbed her head on his cock, letting him slip deeper and deeper.

"Unnh, god. Your hair in this ponytail." He brought a hand to her jaw, fingers sliding into the hair behind her ear. She moaned around his cock. "The smell of you after the gym. Oh, fuck"—he slammed his other hand against the bathroom stall, like he was barely hanging onto his control—"and your fucking neon bras—"

Rey watched him start to come apart, her lips tight around his cock, her tongue slipping across him. He fisted her ponytail, and she started to taste his precome against her tongue.

If she hadn't been so focused on the noises he was making, she never would have heard the footsteps or the sound of the door handle rattling. And if she was a smarter person, she would have locked that door behind her when she decided to blow Ben Solo in a bathroom stall, but here we were.

She pulled her mouth off of him, listening as the door creaked open. She jumped up from her knees, afraid of her heels poking out of the stall. Mr. Solo pulled her close to him in an effort to hide her, but as the intruder walked to the urinals, it was clear that two sets of feet would be found under the stall door—

She was a breath away from jumping _into_ the toilet when Mr. Solo lifted her up from her ribs, and held her to his chest as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She buried her face in his neck, heart thundering with the adrenaline of almost getting caught. She could feel his pulse pounding in response… and also his cock, still hard and thick between her parted thighs.

The man at the urinals began an obnoxious whistle — someone who couldn't take a leak without ambient noise.

Slowly, Rey pulled her face from the intoxicating scent of Mr. Solo's neck, brushing her cheek against his. She met his eyes, and felt his breath on her lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and with a soft sigh, she pressed their lips together. His hand slid from between her shoulders to the back of her neck.

She could still hear the man at the urinal, but she desperately needed to moan her approval at Mr. Solo's technique. His lips were so soft, yet determined. He teased her mouth open, and she bit back a sigh when his tongue pressed inside, sweeping through her and making her squirm in his arms.

She had her hands on his shoulders for balance, and her fingertips played with the ends of his hair as they kissed. She could feel his cock twitching between her legs, so close to her cunt. If she just moved her hips a little bit like that—

His cock pressed against her clit, so lightly. Her head fell backwards, exposing her throat to him as she bit down on her tongue to keep from groaning.

The urinal flushed. They were almost in the clear.

Mr. Solo moved his lips to her neck as she shifted her hips against him, reaching for the sparks that slithered through her skin every time his cock slid up against her.

The taps turned on at the sink, and the whistler began washing his hands.

Mr. Solo's hands slipped over her back, rounding her ass and pulling her flush against him. She squeaked before she could stop herself. One of his hands slipped over the back of her thigh, and started rucking her skirt up to her waist. She nodded her encouragement to him.

This dude was whistling "Halo" by Beyoncé. He seemed intent to finish the verse and chorus.

Rey rested her forehead onto his shoulder, and reveled in the way his fingers slid across the damp fabric of her knickers. He pulled the lace aside, and then his long, blunt fingertips were gliding through her folds, teasing quickly before finding her entrance and pushing in.

She dragged her teeth over his neck. He pulled his fingers from her, and he tilted his mouth to her ear and whispered softer than anything, "I want to make you scream."

Her entire body shivered. And then she felt the head of his cock nudging her entrance.

The taps turned off. And just as he started to slip inside of her, the hand dryers turned on.

Rey moaned in his ear as she sunk down on him. Her thighs shook, her knees clamped tight around his hips as his cock split her open. The hand dryers buzzed and thrummed and Rey moaned through it all, her eyes rolling back as he just. Kept. Filling her. She started scratching at his neck, and she knew if she could hear herself, she would be whining, small moans popping from her throat like bubbles.

He was panting in her neck, his lips kissing her skin with every inch that she descended on his cock.

The hand dryers stopped. She bit down on her lip, squeezing her throat closed. The final bars of "Halo" pinged through the bathroom, as footsteps grew further and further away.

The two of them were utterly still as the door opened. And closed.

He spun them, pinning her to the tile wall, and looped his elbows under her knees.

"Oh my god—"

His lips covered hers, and he began to thrust wildly. Her hands dove into his hair, kissing him back and sucking in air as he pounded her body into the tiles.

His cock was so deep inside of her, and with his mouth still on hers, he murmured, "Think about this too. I think about fucking you in the men's room like this, bending you in half and fucking you until you can't see straight."

"Please. Please, Mr. Solo—"

His hips slammed into hers so hard, her teeth rattled. He paused and groaned. "Say it again."

"Please—"

"No—"

"Mr. Solo."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

He lifted her up his body to free his arms. One of them wrapped under her backside to hold her up and the other started rucking up her blouse. Her legs had to squeeze his hips, and the tension boiling through her thighs was delicious.

He shoved her top up and paused. Even his hips held still.

Rey looked down.

Fuck. She'd kept on her neon sports bra. She had a perfectly good grey lace bra in her office, but _nooo_ she had to keep on her sweaty pink elastic—

"This fucking bra," he said, and started pounding into her again so hard, one of her heels fell off. "Whenever I see this fucking bra, I get half-hard just standing in the elevator with you."

"I… you do?"

He nodded. "I can see it peeking out from your shoulder." His hand shoved the bra up, freeing one breast from underneath it, then the other. His fingers tweaked one nipple as his head dipped to lick at the other.

Rey groaned as their hips slapped together.

He pulled back and stared down at her chest, pink bra rucked up to her clavicles. "Just like this," he whispered. And then without warning, his hand slithered down for her clit as he fucked her against the wall, watching her tits bounce in his face.

His hips snapped violently, his fingertips barely connecting with her clit in their frantic coupling. But Rey watched his gaze on her chest, on her face, on her hair. She climbed higher and higher the faster he went, but it wasn't enough.

"Tell me it's wrong," she sighed. "Tell me we shouldn't."

He looked into her eyes and said, "You could get fired."

She bit her lip and her walls fluttered.

"Anyone could walk in right now. And they'd know exactly what we're doing. Because I won't stop. It doesn't matter who it is. I'm gonna fuck you through it."

Her eyes fluttered closed. Everything was tightening inside of her.

"Need to fuck you. Need to feel you come, Rey."

She whined, her face scrunching up.

"But it's so wrong, isn't it? It's dirty and it's wrong. And it's our secret, sweetheart."

With a blinding pleasure, Rey crested, every muscle squeezing and trying to hold onto him as he hammered into her body. The noises they made were inhuman, something deep inside of her begging for him to never stop.

Just as her body finally relaxed, he pulled out of her, and his come splashed up onto her stomach, over her breasts, staining the pink sports bra that he'd been tortured over for months.

He panted and groaned through his release, another wave of come spilling from him as he saw his spend on her tits and bra.

His hair was wet with sweat and his clothes rumpled. Her torso was covered in come, and she was sure her face was red with exertion.

He blearily opened his eyes to her, letting her down to the ground. He kissed her and cleaned her up. As they caught their breath and dressed themselves, Rey tried to think of what happened now.

Mr. Solo seemed to be going through the same thought process. Rey took a deep breath, and tried to take charge of the situation.

"Well, Mr. Solo," she said, and his eyes darkened. "It seems we only have one solution to this H.R. problem."

His lips twitched. "What's that?"

"You and I will have to spend our lunch hours together indefinitely."

The look he gave her brought a flush to her cheeks. "Oh really? I know how you like to work out at lunch." His eyes flickered down over her body, and his hands landed on her hips. "I'd hate for you to sacrifice your fitness routine."

"I can think of a few ways to stay physically active," she whispered.

He smiled.

~*~

"What's this?"

Rey looked up from her files to see Poe storming into her office. "What's what?"

He slapped down a form titled "Office Relationship Disclosure."

"This!" He pointed at it like it could bite him. "It says you and Mr. Wa— ahem, Mr. Solo are in a relationship."

Rey smiled and stood from her desk to grab her coat. "Yes. The paperwork is complete. I filled it out myself."

Poe gaped at her, mouth opening and closing. Just then, Ben appeared in her doorway.

"Ready to go?"

She smiled. "Yep!"

"Oh, Mr. Dameron," Ben said. "I got a very persistent email from H.R. that I need to update my emergency contact. Please add Rey Johnson." He winked at her.

Poe sputtered. "This… this is highly unusual. He's—" He cut himself off and quietly hissed through his teeth: "He's Mr. Wanks." As if she'd forgotten.

Rey turned over her shoulder and said, "You'll notice he doesn't do much of that anymore. There's no need." She lifted a conspiratorial brow and whispered, "And I know you slept with Hux. Let's just call it all even, alright?" She waved. "See you after lunch!"

Poe was still standing there dumbfounded as Rey and Ben got into the elevators. They headed down to the neighboring parking garage and into the backseat of Ben's sports car for the next forty-five minutes.

It was off company property, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [ Tumblr ](https://lovesbitca8.tumblr.com/) and [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/).


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